


Like a Fairy Tale

by dragonofheaven07



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU
Genre: Comfort, Comfort Reading, Fluff, Gen, Reading Aloud, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 17:21:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonofheaven07/pseuds/dragonofheaven07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick reads his favorite storybook to Damian, 'The Ugly Duckling'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Fairy Tale

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place around the time Dick is still Batman, but it's pretty vague. Cuteness for cuteness sakes to sooth my wounded fangirl heart because THAT is happening tomorrow. Dami, I love you! I await your return!

“Ow! Not so tight!”

“Hold still, Grayson.” Damian pulls the bandage taut. “There, you’re good to go.”

Dick rubs his tender ribs. “Thanks, Damian. Took a pretty nasty hit back there. How’s yours holding up?”

The boy examines his own bandages, wrapping his shoulder. “I’m fine. Could’ve been better, if you hadn’t stepped in.” He makes a sour face.

“Sorry, I’ll trust your judgement next time.” Dick smiles. He studies the box of antiseptic. “So, we’ll have to wait about thirty minutes for the effects to fully kick in. It’s recommended to lie down, no stressful activities.”

“Seriously, Grayson?” Damian moans. “I was planning to train until bed.”

“We could both use a rest.” Dick pats the mattress. “That’s an order, Robin.”

Damian rolls his eyes, but does what he’s told, and reluctantly crawls under the covers. He crosses his arms, pouting. “So what do you propose we do now? I’m not sleepy.”

Dick ponders for a bit, then snaps his fingers. “Ah! I know! Be right back!” He sprints from the room, and returns shortly with a book in hand. “I could read you this!” It’s a hard-cover, old, the pages visibly worn, the title ‘The Ugly Duckling’ in fancy script.

The boy immediately shakes his head. “No way.”

”Bruce—er, your father used to read this to me when I was your age. I thought you’d like to see it, too.”

Damian’s expression softens. He leans back on the headboard. “…Very well.”

“Great!” Dick sits next to him, and opens the book. “‘The Ugly Duckling, by Hans Christian Andersen. Once upon a time…’”

“Why must all these stories start like that: ‘once upon a time’? Can’t they decide on a proper period?” Damian interrupts.

“Then how about ‘In mid-nineteenth century Denmark’, like when it was first written?”

“That will do.”

“Okay ‘Once upon a time, in mid-nineteenth century Denmark, there lived a mother duck whose eggs had just hatched. All the little ducklings were yellow and fluffy, except for one. He was gray and homely, and the rest of his siblings loved to torment him for being different.’” Dick gestures to the picture of the strange little duck being pointed and laughed at. “‘The ugly duckling often played by himself, lonely, without anyone to relate to.’”

“How…unfortunate,” Damian comments dryly.

“‘For many months, the duckling wandered about on his own. The seasons passed. Fall had gone, and a freezing cold winter swept the land. When the snow finally melted, and spring had come, a group of beautiful swans graced the lake. When the ugly duck, now matured, saw these lovely birds, he became saddened, and quickly waddled away to spare the inevitable teasing he would receive. But instead of being repulsed, the swans gladly welcomed him into their circle, for the once ugly duck had grown into an equally handsome swan. And the ugly-duck-no-more happily flied over and reunited with his real family. The end.’” Dick leaves the pages of the joyful swans open. “So, what did you think?”

“An odd message,” Damian replies. “The swan was raised to be humiliated day after day, and he just takes it, and suddenly everything works out? “

“No, no. You’re missing the point.” Dick laughs. “Sometimes the place where you’re accepted and loved isn’t your original home. Sometimes your family aren’t the ones that raised you.” He points to the swans. “Sometimes you have to find them. And it might be hard at first, some getting used to. But it’ll all work out in the end, because they care about you.” He grins.

Damian doesn’t respond. He looks at the drawing, touches the ugly duckling. Shutting the book, the boy turns on his side, clutching it to his chest. “Good night, Grayson,” he mutters.

Dick adjusts the blankets, and goes to switch off the light. “G’night, Damian.”


End file.
